Cypress Hill, 3m 33sec
Gangster Red, whats up yo?
It's a Tribe thing
Madman gonna get cha, quick with the cuente
See a gang, no there ain't no jugete
Rollin like a pyscho with the windows rolled down
Who you looking at, you trying to fade me clown?
Plato, si mon, you want static
When you reach for your gat to load your automatic
(Boo-yaa!) Spitting out buckshots
Homey say blood clat, so you can call a pig
Cause no one could handle, I wind up, and loco
Insane in the brain, you get the bullet and
A hole in your head
A hole in your fucking head A fucking hole in your head
In your head!
A hole in the your head, a hole in the your head
You get a hole in the head (a hole in the head) in your motherfuckin head
Huh! In your head
A hole in the head, a hole in the head
Eight barrel pumping, system thumping
See a fine heina, c'mon baby jump in
I stop to cop, here let me tell you something
Me and you, bruca, we should be humping
Honey likes the mack, homey's got her in the bag
But there's vato's rolling out, and they're sticking up the flag
He jumps out with the sag, hey where ya from homes?
It's on, he sees him reaching for his chrome
Buckshot to the dome, jumps in the Brome
Honey's in the back but she just wants to go home
But he trips to the store homeboy needs a forty
White boy at the counter's thinking oh lordy lordy!
Pushing on the button, panicking for nothing
Pigs on the way, hey yo I smells bacon
Dips out the store, one-time hits the corner
And he hits the fucking alley like his homes was Pop Warner
Still had the forty, coming at the alley
Seen the chief's son, pig Officer O'Malley, oink
In the black and white thinking he's gonna check him right
Wrong, haha, it's gonna be on
That pig better suck a la chrome (P.D. 187)
A to the motherfucking K! (You know whats up Sen)
Get your ass down! And by the way
A Scooby Doo y'all, a Scooby Doo y'all
A Scooby Doo y'all, a doobie doobie doo y'all
A Scooby Doo y'all, Scooby Doo y'all!
A Scooby Doo y'all, a Scooby doobie Doo y'all
Six rollin up and now he's really baffled
Brother's thinkin "Damn I never got this gaffled" (to' up)
Beat down (down) on the way to the station
Gaffled up from a false accusation
Oink to the pen, you know homes the one that's where the
Attitudes apply and where the punks'll be dined
Made a comb to a shank, I'm gonna stick ya
Wet ya, you know homes the picture
(Yeah you never been to jail boy!)
Broomstick up your ass
And by the way, you get
Yeah South Central and the Westside teamed up
This is hell boy
It's a Tribe thing, straight up! It's a Tribe thing
What side is that Red?
Can they kick it?
Can they kick it?
Yeah, can they kick it?
I'm Sirnose and they cannot kick it
Written by FREEZE, LOUIS M. / MUGGERUD, LARRY
Published by Universal Music Publishing Group
Lyrics Provided By LyricFind Inc.